It was but imagination, yet imagination had all the terrors of reality. – Charles Dickens

I had always thought he was nice guy, but I’m beginning to think I was seeing him from the wrong perspective. – Jase

Jase recognized the sensation immediately as the terror of breathlessness engulfed him. With the choking constriction in his throat, he longed to grasp at his neck, but his hands would not move. Unlike the other nightmare, however, Jase could feel, not the iciness of rigid stone, but a dank, grainy substance which filled his lungs, as if someone had stuffed them full of moss and buried him alive. Instead of cold granite surrounding him, he sensed a sultrily oppressive weight that smothered him with an inescapable cascade of mire. Too, a verdant sage-green light stung his panicked eyes as they flitted ceaselessly in search for an escape.

When the living tomb finally released him into the boat's prow, Jase's gasp of relief was short-lived, transforming quickly into disgust. He rolled his eyes at the redundant vision as it unfurled in the familiar sequence. The dream of suffocation had only occurred twice, its infrequency rendering him vulnerable beneath the unrelenting crush of breathlessness. For thirty-eight consecutive days, though, the same ocean had stretched before him, the same wind had caressed his skin, the same velvet sand had scraped against the boat's shell. He had grown insensible and annoyed by its persistence. One time for each day since the one on which Felicity had waved a menacing pistol in his face.

When he had visited her in Belize, he had not known what to expect. He needed one more connection. One more vision. Dare he hope for one more kiss? Mostly, he needed to know that she was okay, that he had not made a mistake in letting her go…He had gotten his connection, his vision, and even his kiss. And he had recognized how completely okay she was without him. It was devastating. She definitely cared about him – the kiss couldn’t lie – but she didn’t need him. Not the way he needed her. Giving up on her was the most selfless act he had ever undertaken, and he understood why he had never done it before and didn’t know if he would ever do it again.

The identical compulsion to see her, though now contained in a dream, drove Jase over the side of the boat and into the cabana, drove him to the same dreaded conclusion. Even though his rational mind rejected the actions, he could not control his dream. Though he could not comprehend the hidden meaning behind his dream of suffocation, he knew exactly why he dreamed of Felicity every night. His mind had not recovered from the trauma of her loss, of her rejection; mostly, he hadn't recovered from his own stupidity.

Though the sequence of the dream remained unchanged over the month, Jase's attitude had devolved. Initially, the beginning of the dream had brought with it excitement, a sense of longing. As he had grown inured to the sensation, soon expecting the end from the beginning, he had lost his eager step, trudging reluctantly across the sand to the dream's inevitable conclusion. He despised the futility of his need for the woman who had driven his obsession for so many nights of misery.

Entering the cabana, Jase searched with purpose for Felicity's figure, hoping by finding her to accelerate the climax of the dream. He mouthed the words as Felicity and the barman exchanged them, he followed his feet obediently into Felicity's path.

Then, as she turned to face him, Jase watched, perplexed, as the expression of cruelty she always wore failed to materialize. Instead, a look of compassionate pity painted her visage. Jase felt no relief at the change; the look did not imply repentance. Instead, the look raised bumps on his skin, unleashing more panic than his earlier suffocation. All he knew for sure was that the angry Felicity from his earlier dreams now offered him inexplicable pity.

Take it, she commanded wordlessly.

For a moment, Jase only stared, unable to process her request. A moment later, though, his hand shaking, Jase reached mechanically toward the object she offered. Though he should not have, he felt just as surprised as always when her grip held, not a drink, but a gun. Why offer it to him, though? She had always seemed to relish the opportunity to blow his brains out. Taking the gun, he gave Felicity one last anguished look as, against his will, he raised the cold, metal barrel to his own head and pulled the trigger.

Jase's alarm didn't ring; it blared, rhythmically and stridently. How could it make so much noise? For his entire adult life, Jase had found sleep frustratingly elusive. Somehow, though, now that sleep tormented him, he couldn't escape it. Finally, the screaming alarm succeeded in goading his brain into awareness, and Jase opened his eyes to the same cold white walls and stark black furniture that always greeted him in the morning. So, he hadn't shot himself in the head. Oh, well.

Narrowing his eyes, he glared around the room as he sat up trying to detect an intangible change that hung in the air. No, he hadn't killed himself, but something else had shifted while he slept, something he could not put his finger on.

When he closed his eyes to gather himself, the dream flashed before his mind, and his stomach churned with something approximating fear. Perhaps nothing had changed in his room; maybe the only shift had happened in his head. Rising to his feet, his unrest compelled him into an indecisive stance between his living room and his bathroom.

The cold metal of the pistol still stung his hand, the biting inflexibility of the muzzle where it pressed into his temple. Jase shook off the memory. What the hell was wrong with him? When he had fallen asleep the previous night, he had still felt master of himself. The morning had found him adrift in uncertainty, and the sensation left a raw edge on his nerves.

The shuffle of footsteps outside his door sent Jase shooting across the room, and he stood with his hand on the knob before the knock sounded. Because of the morning's disturbances, he didn't know whether to reach for his gun or call for backup. He decided to do neither, opting to subvert his irrational skittishness.

“Jase?” came the timid request from the other side of the door, and he nearly laughed at himself. He glanced out the peephole, but turned away, not exactly nervous, but perplexed by the sight that greeted him. The previous evening's events rose before him. Had he really tried to kiss her? Even more unbelievable, had she really returned to his house despite his unscrupulous behavior? Whatever else he thought of her, he had to admit that the woman had some serious nerve.

Opening the door, Jase swept his arm in a welcoming gesture, trying to imitate levity, though he couldn't meet her eyes. “Um, hi, Nessa,” he offered hesitantly. “I didn't expect you to come back quite so soon.”

Nessa tilted her head askance, glaring at him with latent irritation. “We haven't found Briel yet, have we? I have few options here, and you're the best op I know, remember? Do you think I would let personal considerations interfere with helping her?” Not waiting for his further welcome, Nessa steamrolled into his living room, though she waited politely for him to close the door before she seated herself on the sofa.

At a complete loss, Jase followed her in abstraction, mulling over the tenor of her still volatile mood.

“Nick responded to me last night, but he was no help,” Nessa began. “All he said was, 'I'm not sure where she's going, but I'll keep a look out for her.' Either he doesn't care as much as I thought, or he's not desperate enough to let us help yet. I almost got the sense that he considered my finding him an irritation, and he seemed not a little hesitant to give me any contact information.”

“Nessa,” Jase offered without prompt, and he reached hesitantly to take her hand. To his surprise, Nessa allowed it, only expressing her continued ire with the hint of defiance in her eyes. “Please accept my apology,” he offered. “I never intended to convey such mixed messages, I just...”

The combative character of her gaze softened, and Jase recognized the mercy as it flooded back into her eyes. “I understand, Jase. I overreacted. I know that with your job you often have to blur the line between relationships and casual interactions.”

She spoke with the utmost coolness, though not unkindly, and despite the truth of her words, Jase winced at their meaning. Nessa had heard of Jase's reputation, of course. Probably from Drew, he accused. Still, he didn't like to be pigeonholed. “Problem is, I don't do casual very well. I'm not as gifted as you are,” she offered a bit sheepishly. “I'm afraid if I cross the line, I'll lose myself, and that would overthrow the reason I do this job. That's why I try not to involve myself with anyone.”

Jase scoffed at the irony of her words. Not as good as you... In every way except ability, Nessa was his better. So good, in fact, as to seem thoroughly ill-fit for a job that relied so heavily on one's ability to deceive. “And Drew?” Jase pressed.

Instead of answering, Nessa bit her lip as if unprepared to answer.

“Nevermind,” Jase relented. “No mixed messages. So,” he changed the topic entirely. “Why do you do this job?” he begged. “You just don't seem the type to enter this profession - no offense.”

Nessa rolled her eyes. “Because you and Briel think I'm too soft; I see that. Everyone seems to think so, but I'm not as helpless as I seem...”

“I've discovered that,” Jase interrupted sardonically.

At his admission, Nessa smiled with an approximation of smugness. “But if you want me to tell you the whole story, it will take a while.”

Abruptly, Jase yearned to hear, wanting to understand what history would have created such an interesting mix of compassion and steel. “We have a while,” he pressed. “We're just sitting here waiting for an email.”

“I don't know, Jase. I need to try to find another method of contacting Briel. I'm not ready to throw all my eggs in Nick's basket. Plus, I'm not sure I'm ready to invest that much of myself in this.”

Not knowing her meaning cut through Jase's cool demeanor like sharpened steel. Did she mean she didn't know whether to trust Jase? Or perhaps she simply had more to tell than he imagined. He would have protested, but before he could, Nessa erected her finger in such a way as to halt his words, and she diverted her eyes rapidly to the open laptop on the coffee table. Though he felt dismissed, Jase recognized her look of scrutiny and suppressed his ego for a moment. He'd been supplanted by something more important, apparently. “What is it?” he begged, eager to divine what had overthrown his plans. What had she seen on the screen?

Nessa shook her head in disbelief. “It's Nick,” she dropped in an even tone. “He's coming to see us.” With her last words, Nessa turned to face Jase, questioning apparent on her face. “How does he know where to find us?”

As if someone had slapped him in the face, the realization struck Jase. If Nick could find them, he had no doubt used one method; his area of expertise, the computer. Jase wanted to kick himself. “I should have made sure,” he chastised under his breath. “I just assumed that your company would...” Instead of finishing, Jase trailed off in thought, moving to position himself in front of the coffee table.

“Assumed that what?” Nessa seemed irritated as he nudged her out of the way.

“Your company doesn't set up a proxy for your computers,” he explained. “Something that reroutes your signal to another location. Anyone could find you.”

“Do I need one?” Nessa queried, suddenly on edge. “The company uses lots of security software.”

“Maybe you're right,” he replied, reaching his hand to the laptop. “Maybe the company installed some software. Maybe Nick is headed to the wrong place,” Jase more mumbled to himself than talked to Nessa.

After a moment of furious tapping, Jase shook his head angrily. “This is a huge oversight on the management's part. Anyone can find your agents by tracing the IP address.”

Nessa nodded slowly, apparently processing Jase's words. “And, maybe that's how Briel's pursuer found her! And if she's currently using her laptop, they can still trace her every move!”

Jase could sense the acid tentacles of Nessa's panic. “Not if she has the right software, Nessa,” Jase soothed. “Like I said before; Briel is an excellent op. Maybe she upgraded her security herself.”

Again, Nessa glared covertly toward him, but she said nothing. She didn't seem to buy his attempt to console her.

“Did Nick give you a way to contact him?” Jase had a sudden epiphany, and he needed as much information as he could gather.

“Well, he wouldn't give me his phone, but he said to messenger him at this email,” Nessa explained, pulling up a notepad on her computer.

Immediately, Jase snatched the laptop from her hands and began rapid-fire tapping.

Nick, it's Jase. I need some info from you re: Briel, Jase began.

Nick: What is it? Did you hear something?

Jase: No, nothing. I wanted to find out if you had access to some information that we did not. The more knowledge I have going in, the more likely our success in finding her. What made you decide to come see us?

Nick: I'll explain everything to you when I get there because you can't be too careful what you write online, but do you have any computer experience?

Jase: I can hold my own. What do you have?

Nick: You could probably glean some info off of this IP address. It's what sent me to see you.

A series of numbers appeared on the screen, and Jase quickly copied and pasted them onto a notepad.

Thanks, Jase offered before severing the connection.

He linked into the computer for which Nick had provided the information and began digging through recent computer activity. When he found some relevant files, he began a rapid perusal of what appeared to be a correspondence.

When his eyes comprehended the meaning of the words he read, Jase's stomach clutched in concern. Perhaps Nessa had reason to panic. The exchanges that he read must have happened after the last time Nick looked, or Nick would have communicated a lot more urgency. Anyone that saw them would forgo worries about security for the sake of initiating action.

I have her, the words began, followed by a skeletal relation of events that appeared to have occurred over the previous week. The owner of the computer had Briel in his possession, it seemed. Jase cringed at the two names that presented themselves on the screen as correspondents: Jack and Liam.

“Nessa, I have bad news,” Jase's voice shook a bit as he spoke, and Nessa turned to him with a look of undisguised fear. “Come look at this.”

Almost reluctantly, Nessa trudged across the room and positioned herself to look over Jase's shoulder.

“Liam?” she choked out incredulously.

“Yes,” he admitted, turning to take in her expression. He could understand the anxiety she wore on her face. “At least Briel knows how to handle Liam,” he tried to reassure her. Though Jase had suspected Liam's motives, he had never really attributed so much conniving to the disagreeable op. Somehow, Drew had completely misjudged his coworker, though with Drew's simplistic mentality, Jase couldn't really expect much more from his frank friend. “And we don't know for certain that Briel is not working with Liam on some sort of mission against ProtoComm.”

Nessa didn't seem comforted by Jase's assertion.

“Oh, Jase. You don't know Liam. He is by far the best op we have except Briel. On any given day, he may best her rather than the other way around. And why not tell me if she had an operation with him?” Nessa's desperation felt palpable in the room around them.

Though he knew better, Jase couldn't help himself. The way her eyes had widened into round pools of misery pulled him from his seat. Her breath came in shaky gasps, and Jase had to find a way to calm her. As he reached for her, he soothed as best he could with his tone. “We'll get her, Nessa,” he insisted pulling his companion toward him. When she resisted, he reassured her. “I promise not to be a jerk.”

With that, Nessa seemed to relax into his embrace, and Jase enveloped her as fully as possible in his arms. Though he had sworn to behave, Jase couldn't refrain from inhaling the scent of her hair, reveling in the softness of the shiny strands that brushed against his cheek. Where his arms met her flesh, the contact burned, and though he had embraced more women than he cared to admit, none of them had felt as close to home as Nessa did.

Jase shook his head trying to shatter the trance; he reminded himself that Nessa had soundly rejected his previous advances. Plus, at the moment she was dating his only real friend.

After a minute, her breathing relaxed. “I'm fine,” she claimed and pushed slightly away from him as she pressed down gently on his arms to free herself. “Thanks.” Despite her gratitude, she still wore a pained expression as she expanded the space between them. She portrayed all the reluctance he felt. “You're right, too. Briel does know Liam well and isn't likely to find him her superior.”

“I saw something else on here,” Jase explained as he stepped with her back to the computer. “Liam seems to have a traveling companion who is an old acquaintance of mine.”

“An acquaintance?”

Suddenly, Jase's face burned with embarrassment, a sensation he had not felt since he was a kid.

“Yes,” Jase admitted. “Amélie. I'm not surprised to find her involved since Bill is at least tacitly behind this. She's been in the thick of this from the beginning, though in what capacity I'm not sure. Bill pays well. I think I can use her presence to our advantage though, since she and I have worked together for years.”

“An old acquaintance,” she scoffed, laying on the word old. “She's younger than I am.”

Jase squelched the grin that threatened his lips. By two years, Jase knew, but he hadn't expected Nessa to investigate the Frenchwoman. What could have compelled her? The possibilities amused him.

“So, how exactly does her presence help us?” Nessa queried with a hint of petulance.

“Amélie is one of the vainest human beings I have ever encountered, completely convinced of her own self-worth.” Perhaps the unflattering description would ease some of Nessa's concern about his relationship with Amélie. “Of course, that makes her easily manipulated. Though she's intelligent, she is more a weakness for Liam than a strength. And she can't resist me, for sure.” He had tried to behave, but he couldn't suppress the last comment. A look of displeasure crossed Nessa's face, and Jase couldn't restrain his spontaneous snicker.

“Fine,” she admitted with a hint of irritation. “So, what's your plan?”

“I'm going to call her. When last I left her, she had some unpleasant words to say to me, but she didn't have the opportunity. I'm fairly certain she'll grasp at the chance if I call her now.” After glancing at his watch, Jase reached for his phone. The message had originated in France, but his watch assured him that he would find Amélie awake at the moment. Before he dialed, he licked his lips to rid them of any phantom trace of Amélie's kiss.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Nessa worried. “What can it accomplish for you to contact her? You might let her know we're on their trail. Or she might trace the call.” Nessa seemed both nervous and irritated.

“I'm absolutely sure. I should have little trouble using Amélie's megalomania to stir up some seeds of dissension between her and Liam. And if she traces the call to San Antonio, it will only reaffirm that we aren't after her.”

Though he cringed at the thought of holding the conversation in Nessa's presence, Jase knew she wouldn't leave now if he asked. He dialed Amélie's number.

“Bonjour,” came the lilting voice on the other end of the phone.

“Bonjour, Amélie,” Jase crooned gently. He knew he walked a fine line between offending Nessa with his tone or irritating Amélie. He would have to tread carefully.

“I am surprised to hear from you,” Amélie continued, her fluid tone enhancing the beauty of her native tongue. Remarkably, she sounded delighted to hear his voice. His kiss must have been more convincing than he had expected. “After our last liaison I assumed you had returned to that amante of yours. The Américaine?”

“Amélie,” Jase murmured reassuringly. “You never really believed that I would return to her – you certainly didn’t seem to believe it when I spoke to you a few days ago. You of all people recognize a game. My intention was always to manage Brendon Miller, never to gain his wife.”

“A game?” she retorted, ignoring his jibe and returning one of her own. “It did not look like a game. Because you beat this Mr. Miller, yet the woman has left you.”

“If I didn't know better, I would think that I fooled you as well as her. I never thought it possible.”

“The fact remains: she has rejected you,” Amélie accused, seemingly skeptical of his assertion. “And only now you call me, when she has spurned your attentions. You have changed, Jase.”

The woman was merciless, but Jase had always known that. “Amélie, I'm sorry about New York. I know I left you in a difficult position, but I counted you competent to handle whatever occurred. This had nothing to do with Felicity. I have never met another woman like you and never will.”

A quiet huff from the other side of the room drew Jase back to his circumstances, and he felt a hint of guilt when he grew aware of the wide eyes in Nessa's face and the “oh” of surprise that had parted her lips. Obviously, his compliment to Amélie had shocked Nessa, but, Jase realized, she looked adorably displeased.

“I cannot help you now anyway,” Amélie drew him back to the phone. “I have an assignment from Bill.”

Jase smiled to himself. He had waited for the comment and planned to capitalize on it. “Of course, Amélie. We are not always masters of our own time.”

Amélie paused, and Jase could almost hear the barrier of her ridiculous pride erecting behind the phone. “Do not tease me, Jase. You know that I do as I please. No one controls Amélie Laurent.”

“Of course not.” Jase allowed. “Not most of the time. But, of course, most men are not Liam Monroe. I have met him – he is not someone who abides dissent. I can certainly understand why you must not cross him.”

“I don't care how well you know him,” she insisted, and Jase could almost smell the defiance dripping off of her tone. “I am surprised at how poorly you know me, after everything we have shared.”

“So, you're not worried about challenging him. Then you will help me, ma chère?”

“No, I will not. Whatever you need you must do without me. And you will have to find a new way to enthrall me. I do not accept men scorned by their other lovers.”

Jase heard the click of the connection as it terminated, and he couldn't suppress a grin.

“I would say she will prove a serious impediment to Liam from here on out. That worked out nicely.” When he turned to Nessa, his confidence faltered. The expression on her face rested somewhere between anger, misery, and despondence. Of course, she tried to hide all her emotions behind cool self-control.

Jase found himself at a loss for words. When he had called Amélie, he had known that Nessa would hear, but he didn’t know how to tailor the conversation in any favorable light. Again, his worlds seemed to have clashed, trapping him between his corrupt past and his ambiguous future.

Why did he care, though? He didn't like the realization that he cared. From the moment he had dropped out of college to pursue his current career, he had never cared what people thought. Now, though, the conflagration in his head disoriented him.

For a moment, he stared at Nessa, trying to gather his thoughts. A faint blush painted her cheeks, but not, he surmised, from embarrassment. He had seen the look before though, the most notable time just over a month before on Felicity Miller's face. Ironic that Amélie had instigated the look both times. Jealousy.

“Well, I'm glad that worked out for you. We'll regroup when we know something more. Goodbye,” Nessa stated suddenly, her voice devoid of any apparent emotion. Jase balked at her abruptness, completely unsure of her state of mind. While her jealousy would have pleased him, her coolness piqued him, but before he could probe farther, she had turned and walked out the door.

It was what he had wanted, he assured himself. Space to think. If anything, her effect on him bolstered his initial resolve to get away from her, and he forcefully turned his mind to other, less threatening, matters. Felicity had been a fantasy; Nessa was far too real.

He paused glancing around the room in search of distractions. Finally, he found one in something imminently practical: his household supplies had run dangerously low since Nessa had inhabited his living room floor. Too, he realized that he needed to call Sara soon with his reply concerning the employment she offered. Of course, giving Sara an answer presented more indecision for Jase since he wanted to manipulate the process. He wanted to make sure that, if he changed his mind about joining the team, he would find no difficulty leaving it behind.

To reassure himself, he would have to visit Drew. Good. Motion, Jase huffed with relief. He determined to seek out his friend as soon as possible. Since Jase would need to return home within a couple of hours, he had to find a resolution before then.

Having run his more menial errands, Jase pulled into the parking lot of Drew's townhome complex and proceeded toward the door to his friend's abode. When his feet hit the driveway, though, his stomach lurched. Directly before him sat Nessa's dingy, outdated silver sedan. Only natural, Jase realized, for Nessa to seek out a little time with her boyfriend when she had a break from her work.

Jase's instinct, though, urged him to rush up the stairs and bang insistently on the door. Instead, he restrained himself, reminding himself of how inappropriate such an action would be. Inappropriate and foolish, he knew, because it would betray to his friend the extent of Jase's interest in Nessa, and it would probably betray to Nessa the same. And he had not even decided just yet how he wanted that interest to play out.

When, a few minutes later, the door swung open at his insistent knock, Jase forced himself not to glare at Drew's welcoming face. When he looked beyond Drew into the living room, Jase felt slightly mollified at the look of guilt that flashed across Nessa's features before she smoothed them into a pleasant smile.

“Hey, Drew,” Jase began smoothly. “Do you have a few minutes to go over some of the details of this contract that Sara gave me? You know me: before I sign, I want as much information as I can gather.” Jase's eyes sought Nessa's, and he pinned her with his accusing gaze. “I can come back later.”

“No,” Drew insisted, seemingly oblivious to the exchange between his friend and his girlfriend. “Nessa just came by to return some tools she had borrowed. And I know you want an out in case you change your mind about this whole 'Team' idea.” Turning to Nessa, Drew smiled pleasantly at his beautiful girlfriend, and Jase could sense his friend's admiration of Nessa, at least on some level.

Nessa responded by unfurling her legs from their crossed position and gliding to Drew's side by the door. “Thanks, Drew,” she offered, and she raised up on her toes to place a benevolent peck on Drew's cheek. Jase's fists balled, and when Drew turned his lips to touch Nessa's, Jase forced himself to remain perfectly rigid until Nessa had stepped toward the door. Had she just smiled coyly at Jase from under her lashes?

“Don't leave on my account,” Jase goaded. “I can come back another day.”

Defiantly, Nessa held onto Drew's arm and turned her head toward Jase. “There's no reason your being here would compel me to leave. It's just that I still have errands to run,” she asserted, then she turned and walked out the door. Had Jase noted a sheepish glance behind her petulant tone? He wondered if her performance had been for Drew's sake as much as for Jase's. Jase smiled at the door.

As soon as Drew turned, he pounced on Jase. “What have you done to her?”

Completely taken by surprise, Jase raised his questioning gaze to his friend's irate face. Drew stood a good four inches above Jase's six-foot frame, but Jase could never feel intimidated by such an obviously spineless man. Rather than reply in kind, Jase stepped back slightly, painting his face with the calmest expression he could manage.

“I have no idea what you mean, Drew. We've spent the last six days trying to find Briel, with no time for extracurricular activities. Is something wrong with her?” Jase knew what his reputation would communicate to a nice guy like Drew, but Jase honestly couldn't claim to having had much effect on Nessa.

“She wouldn't even kiss me when she came over, Jase.” Instead of the passion of a lover, Drew wore the sulk of a pouty child. Jase wondered at the pettiness of his friend's sentiments regarding his supposed girlfriend. “And her weak attempt to joke around with me couldn't mask her guilty expression.”

“Guilty expression? Well, Drew,” Jase began. He didn't ask himself why he felt a sudden exhilaration at the thought of Nessa's guilt. “You'll have to ask her what's wrong. I didn't do anything.” Though I tried, he qualified silently. “Nessa isn't interested in me.”

“Hmmm,” Drew responded noncommittally. “In other words, you put out your feelers, and she didn't respond. Good for her. But what if she had responded? Would you have refused her then? I mean, what do you think of her after spending all this time with her?”

For an instant, Jase had to suppress an urge to laugh at his friend. Did he mistrust Jase or did he want some type of cool analysis of his girlfriend? Odd man.

As he thought how to answer, though, Jase had to reign in the look of admiration that appeared involuntarily on his face. Drew seemed to catch a hint of it as he turned back to face his friend, and he confronted Jase directly. “You like her, then,” Drew accused, and Jase cursed his lack of self-restraint.

“Who wouldn't like her?” Jase answered lamely. “She's great?” The mere platitude almost seemed a blasphemy in describing someone like Nessa. “Of course, we both know that's not the point. I already told you, she's not into me, and she's not really my type. I've never cared for the good-girl.” Never before, anyway. Would Jase's nonchalance mask the intensity of his true opinion?

“Good,” Drew replied skeptically. “Though, I'm sure you wouldn't refuse her if she came on to you. I mean, if you thought she were good in bed, you certainly wouldn't discriminate.” Drew sounded more amused than irritated at the notion, and Jase wanted to reach up to slug the man for his disrespect.

The attitude raised a red cloud before Jase's vision, and he considered the distinct possibility of physically removing the smile from Drew's face. Due to a build-up of unexhaled air in his lungs, Jase realize that he needed to get out of the apartment before Drew's attitude finally elicited physical retaliation.

“I'm taking the job,” Jase informed his friend abruptly. Only distance and fresh air could clear Jase's head of his irrational fury. Without another word, he spun and rushed out the door. He would ride with the top down on his way home.